party for 2. dance that is;)

i have to admit. I was going to name this post: move those hips like they aren't super wide from birthing a child:) 

see below for the point;)

i can't dance. It's actually not physically possible. I was even once, while ON the dance floor...doing what I thought was dance shit, told to 'move my hips'...'like this'...I cut her. She died.;)

SO Homer's pretty well screwed if that situation's hereditary;) The dancing...not the cutting. Although...;)

but what's more fun than having a young, innocent child, who does not know any better? Nothing. Take advantage folks. Tell them stories of a wild youth (even if it's true...it's more dangerous that way;) while all sounds are 'womp womp womp' to their little ear holes. Sing to them. SING to your heart and terrible...terrible - you know it's terrible...come on;) - terrible voice's content. They'll smile. They still like high pitched noises at this point:)

and dance. Dance like no one's watching:) And hope that no one is;) But they'll love it. They'll think you have ALL the right moves. And you will. Till they're about 6. By then they've probably already been dancing considerably better than you for a few years. How? Cause you know they ain't pickin' that shit up at home.

so I will. With him. Till the 'you're weird mom' comments start. And after that...I'll save up all my best stuff for when his friends visit;)

and that wasn't that much dancing at all! You've been spared;) But it is a little sneak peek into our living room SLASH entertaining space SLASH bedroom. Cozy;)

and I'll add that these days...these days have to be the best:) And by the best...I mean he didn't head butt me in the nose until way after 5PM. Thank you child. Thank you.